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Mexico 1980
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Mexico 1980

Replacements

Not Laughing!

Two-Step

Lessons Learned

We absolutely nailed the audition, even the lifts. My partner and I were called before the choreographer. In a moment we had the payoff to hours of practice and pain. We had — a job!

The answers to questions came rapidly. A three month run at $400.00 a week, round trip airfare, no passport – just a birth certificate. You will be working on the top floor of Fiesta Palace, a beautiful hotel resort. The nightclub has a 270–degree view of Mexico City from twenty–four stories above. You leave in three days. WOW!

We arrived in Mexico with our American group of eight consisting of a choreographer, six tall blonde beauties and myself. I was feeling really good at this point. We were taken through customs, asked more than once if we were Swedish athletes and introduced to our Producer. He seemed a warm, friendly man. He looked at the women, grabbed his heart and spoke in broken English, "Angels, I must be in Heaven!"

The Producer drove us to a government building where we had to fill out forms for work visas.

"They're valid for six months and you must have one to work in Mexico," said the clerk.

We were given copies of our visas by the Producer and instructed to keep them with us at all times.

We adapted quickly to our new life. Rehearsals flew by, the show opened and was a hit. The choreographer, satisfied with a job well done, flew back to the United States and I finally had the time to enjoy Mexico.

The sites, the food, the customs and the people were wonderful. I made every effort to meet the people and learn their ways, and looking like a ‘Swedish athlete' made it that much more fun.

The show was performed to sold out crowds and we were extended for an additional three months. We were given the option of continuing on in Mexico or heading home to the U.S. We were having a great time, not to mention putting some money away... the entire cast stayed on.

I started to branch out in Mexico, dancing in some television specials and I even managed a couple of weekend trips to Acapulco, (a twenty–five minute flight). Now I was living!

On the fifth month of our stay we were notified that the show would be extended for yet another three months. This time I was torn. Although I was happy, I was lonely for the sight of a Burger King or a Shell gas station. My partner and I decided to give a four-week notice, stating we would leave at the end of our six-month contract.

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